


Only Fools

by writinghomunculus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:33:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6353590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writinghomunculus/pseuds/writinghomunculus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s nothing, and before Kageyama can think better of it, he forces himself to prepare the next order.</p><p>He was foolish to expect different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Fools

“Kageyama!”

The shout causes his head to jerk up, eyes having been casted at his shoe now trained on a familiar orange that darted through the sea of people streaming out the train station. 

“Kageyama!” The excited voice rings again and this time Kageyama sees him appear from within the crowd of people, hair a little longer than he remembers, but the undercut he decided to get at the beginning of their third year still prominent. There’s a bounce in his step and the widest grin on his face as he approaches Kageyama, and Kageyama can’t help the exasperated fondness that crawls up his chest.

“Hinata,” he greets and immediately he’s met with a rapid-fire of “How have you been, Kageyama?” and “Tokyo is still so cool” and “Kenma says you should come over sometime!” and Kageyama can’t fight the curl of his lips.

Hinata speaks animatedly, voice loud and bright, hands whizzing around in weird gestures that are accompanied by sound effects. They walk to a near-by cafe, Hinata filling Kageyama in about his new life in Tokyo (he had moved in with Kenma-san and Kuroo-san after graduating a month ago, deciding to go to university there). Kageyama hasn’t seen him since, but he’s glad to see that the month that had passed with him and Hinata only communicating through texts hasn’t changed anything between them.

As Hinata sits at the table across of him after ordering coffee and cake, consulting Kageyama about whether or not he should tell Kuroo about the cat hiding in beneath his bed, Hinata’s sleeve rolls down his arm further and further. Kageyama tries not to stare at the vibrant pink on his arm.

\---

Colormarks. Kageyama knows what they’re called.

He’d seen them peeking from beneath Hinata’s shirt collar, his sleeves, the base of his neck. He remembers them clearly, each one a different color, pink, orange, yellow. He sees them, the mark of someone who has found their soulmate, the marks that Kenma-san had left on Hinata. He knows how they work, each touch of your soulmate leaving color to bloom on your skin, different patterns and shapes for every pair. Colormarks stay, can’t be washed off, fades only with time. 

Kageyama knows from experience.

(He buries that thought into the back of his mind.)

\---

The first week of college goes fine. Kageyama adjusts to the new environment easily enough, settling in his dorm room with everything unpacked by the second day. Thankfully his room mate was normal enough, a quiet, low-energy kind of guy who studied pharmaceuticals. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but the few times they did talk had been nice, comfortable conversations which suited Kageyama just fine.

Classes haven’t started yet, so Kageyama busies his days by signing up for clubs, touring around campus, getting a job at the cafe 5 minutes away from school, and he may or may not have followed Hinata’s advice of signing up for one student event just to get the feel of what his new college life would be like.

He’s doing fine, he thinks, right hand ink-stained by the the pen attached to the volleyball club’s sign-up sheet. It isn’t too much different from High School, minus the absence of his friends from volleyball, but it’s only the first week and so far Kageyama’s hopeful.

The hope dies on Monday morning though, when Kageyama throws his messenger bag haphazardly over his shoulder, his bid of farewell directed towards his room mate barely audible over the quick slam of the door. He runs down the hallways to his first lecture, the importance of a good first impression having been burnt into the forefront of his mind by Yamaguchi during their group skype calls just a few night prior.

He feverently searches for his lecture hall, spotting the last of a stream of people heading in. Kageyama makes it just in time, managing to what he hopes is to successfully pull off the impression that he’d come in with the last of the students. Most of the students are already seated, so Kageyama hastens towards the nearest empty aisle seat and plops down on to it, quickly taking his pre-printed notes out of his messenger bag.

He’s got everything prepared — his notes, the needed stationery, a tape recorder in case he didn’t understand the lesson the first time (“Kenma’s advice!!!!!!!” Hinata had sent him just the night before). 

Too bad this is where Kageyama’s hope dies as the person next time him pushes their hair behind their ear, Kageyama’s eyes reflexively following the motion.

Time stops. 

Clear, pale skin. Hair, parted right down the middle in a style that should’ve made anyone look ridiculous — anyone except him. He could just make out the dull brown eyes behind the curtain of hair.

Blood rushes through his body, cumulating in his ears where his pulse is thick, breath short, fingers twitching at the memories, eyes glazed and head dizzy. 

He doesn’t — doesn’t want to remember.

\---

As soon as the lecture is over, Kageyama jumps from his seat right out the door. The past hour of his life had passed excruciatingly slow, and Kageyama made a mental note to thank Kenma for his advice about the tape recorder. He hadn’t been able to concentrate, not one bit, not with him right there. 

Of all the things that could’ve gone wrong—

_(Hands come up to hold his face, thumbs sweeping across his cheeks, long, lithe fingers cradling his jaw.)_

Of all things—

_(Kageyama didn’t even need to look to know—)_

It had to be _this_.

_(He was colored.)_

\---

There’s the distinct sound of pens scratching against paper despite the rattle of excited chatter accompanied by light static that comes from his headphones. Apparently Kageyama had missed more than expected during today’s lecture. He’s writing out a more organized version of the messy notes he had previously scribbled while listening to the recording, distracted from the skype call that was currently ongoing.

“First day of lessons and tied up already?” 

Had it been their first year of High School, Kageyama knew that his tone would’ve been snide, mocking, arrogant, but their years of playing volleyball together had changed their friendship, and Kageyama could tell the slight concern in Tsukishima’s voice.

“Yeah, I, uh… I fell asleep in class.”

There were overly exuberant yells of “That’s way too early into the year, Kageyama!” and he caught sight of a worried look on Yamaguchi’s face, but Kageyama decided to keep his head down.

It’s easier for them to forget about questioning Kageyama when Yachi joins the call shortly after. She apologizes for being late,and the rest get swept up in her foreboding story of getting lost on campus. Kageyama drones out, letting his mind wander.

He doesn’t want to tell them. They don’t know about it, about his soulmate, and he doesn’t want to tell them. 

There’s nothing to tell them about, Kageyama thinks, nothing.

While he sat there, a little too straight, a little too stiff, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on it’s ends, acutely aware of being right next to him, trying his best to and failing at not paying attention to him, he didn’t even look over once.

He isn’t even sure if he had been noticed.

A part of him wished that he wasn’t, because he doesn’t want to tell them.

He doesn’t want to tell them that his soulmates rejected him.

\---

_It’s crucial, he knows, that they get the next point. He’s focused on where the other team is, on where he needs to toss the ball to avoid the blockers. He sends the ball into the air, sharp and quick, high enough where it definitely won’t get blocked._

_But instead of a resounding smack, Kageyama hears a dull thud, the blow of the whistle. He turns, and they aren’t behind him, his soulmates. Nobody is._

_He realizes too late that he’s all alone._

\---

It’s hard, losing your soulmate, the person you’ve felt a connection with, the person whose most suited for you and the one you’re most suited for. It’s even harder being in such close proximity with them, knowing that they’re there, within an arm’s length (quite literally), remembering how things used to be and what could’ve been.

Kageyama can’t tell which is worse, the memories or the “What if”s. He hates how middle school is all he thinks about, how much he misses them. Kageyama especially hates how he unconsciously tries to look out for that familiar silhouette, hoping to meet him again, as if anything would change between them by simply walking past each other.

Maybe he’ll talk to Kageyama first. Maybe he’s forgiven Kageyama for what happened an eternity ago. Maybe Kageyama’s just hopeful. 

Maybe he’s just foolish.

\---

Between university and that part-time job he got as a barista, Kageyama manages to keep himself busy enough. It’s a distraction, though just barely, and Kageyama can’t wait until volleyball practice starts the week after.

It’s a busy day, Kageyama tasked to make orders that come in so rapidly he doesn’t have time to tend to the counter. Thankfully his co-workers tend to the customers for him, messily scrawling their names to the side of foam cups.

Kageyama makes drink after drink, head swarming with a mess of orders that he can’t seem to remember. The only one that remotely catches his attention though, has three extra shots of milk and Kageyama smiles slightly at that. He prepares it at lightning speed, turning back to the counter with drink in hand, only to have the name to be called die in his throat.

Kunimi’s already in front of the counter, however, and Kageyama is surprised his hand didn’t go slack at the nervousness he felt. Instead of passing the cup over like he usually would with other customers, he puts the cup on the counter and Kunimi picks it up.

There’s no risk of contact, no touching. There’s no chance for color-inked skin, or worse, the realization of the lack of. There’s no exchange of words, no acknowledgement of the other’s existence. 

There’s nothing, and before Kageyama can think better of it, he forces himself to prepare the next order.

He was foolish to expect different.

\---

_“Kunimi?”_

_It’s a rare sight to see — Kunimi sitting at his desk, bento box strangely unopened. Usually Kunimi would be in his own classroom, lunch quickly eaten for the sake of nabbing the littlest minutes of sleep._

_Kageyama pulls the nearest chair to his own table, scuffing the worksheets he had approached his teacher about, causing him to miss most of lunch, into his backpack.  
_

_“Here, I saved some for you,” Kunimi says quietly, pushing the box forward. “You didn’t have time to buy food for lunch, did you?”_

_Kageyama shakes his head, popping the cover off the bento._

_“Thank you,” he says as Kunimi’s fingers crawl to his, fingers curling against each other’s slightly._

_He doesn’t remember what he eats for lunch that day, but the outlines of flowers in a white is one thing he hasn't been able to forget._

**Author's Note:**

> my first multi-chaptered fic in a long time but i'm excited for it! (◍•ᴗ•◍) hmu [@hanavmaki](http://hanavmaki.tumblr.com)


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